


you're going to want me too

by astele



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, Love Bites, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Shameless Smut, Smut, dominant trilla, nor the code of ethics, submissive cal, those really should already be tags, trilla did not read the employee hand book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21727945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astele/pseuds/astele
Summary: speechless, bloody and dishevelled wasn’t a half bad look on the little Jedi.(really what it says on the tin).
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Trilla Suduri | Second Sister
Comments: 6
Kudos: 162





	you're going to want me too

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time ever writing smut so it's probably bad but i don't even care. don't try this at home kids. trilla is Not Nice.

He’d been doing so well, really. Kestis had been a guest at Nur for nearly a month under the Second Sisters meticulous care. Halfway through that time frame, his defiance had begun to crumble as he was worn down by physical exhaustion through torture and the constant mental guard, he had to keep least he found himself abandoning his precious ideals under duress. It was almost tragic really, the less confident in his ability to escape he became by the day, the lack of replies he began to have for her hypothetical queries about what exactly he had planned to save himself. 

She couldn’t lie though, speechless, bloody and dishevelled wasn’t a half bad look on the little Jedi. 

Today had been the much the same as it had been for the past month, at least at first. She’d stepped inside his cell as though bored, noting that he didn’t bother to even rise or look in her direction at this point. He was curled up in the very corner of the cell, arms wrapped around his legs, head limp against the wall as he stared rather resolutely ahead at solid grey. She clicked her tongue in disappointed that it seemed it would be one of his more listless days. He was so much more boring on those ones. 

“Is my company that boring, Jedi?” She sighed, a mock disappointed shake of her head. A slight twitch of one hand was the only indication he gave that he had even acknowledged her presence. That wouldn’t do at all. 

He still did not move as she approached him with an appraising eye. Dark circles were fairly prominent under his eyes, and there was evidence of bruising around his neck and jaws from where he’d injured himself in his struggles. There was something very artistic about the blooms of purple and black against his pale skin, and she took a minute to admire it before trying again. 

“Oh dear, don’t tell me you’ve finally broken? We were truly just getting to the good part.” His silence was becoming some what irritating to her now. When she spoke, she expected the recipient to have the decency to at least acknowledge her. One boot tapped his thigh experimentally, seeing if he had actually fallen into a catatonic state.

Trilla truly hadn’t expected him to lunge for her, a flash of desperation in his eyes. 

Well, she had expected some half-baked escape plan at some point. Just not one quite this ill-advised. 

A flick of her wrist, and he found himself up against a wall, struggling against a firm invisble grip on his throat. He was panting furiously against the hold, staring at her with a mixture of fear and desperate anger. Oh, now wasn’t that beautiful. She reached out and cupped his face, running one gloved finger carefully along his jawline. 

“That wasn’t very clever now was it. I can’t imagine what you had hoped to achieve.” She practically purred, more amused by his little display than anything else. “Or perhaps you just like being punished?” 

It had been a off-handed comment, really, however she paused when she saw something flicker in his eyes. _Oh._ Very interesting. 

A mock delighted gasp, and she stepped in closer to purposefully brush her body against his, enjoying the way his struggles ceased and he went rigid for a moment. “Oh, little Jedi, I’m extremely flattered, but whatever would your mentor say?” 

He makes a strangled noise of protest and with another dramatic sigh, she releases her grip on his throat. When he makes a movement, she’s simply faster, pinning both wrists against the wall with a lazy smirk. 

“You’re delusional.” He finally manages to get out, voice raw after weeks in an Imperial interrogation chair. He doesn't sound particularly convincing. She raises a single eyebrow and notes the way his eyes dip away from hers. There’s a growing flush on his face, and something inside her purrs at the sight. 

Deciding to take a chance, she leans into him, dark hair brushing against his cheek and lips a mere centimeter away from his ear. She pauses for a month, even more pleased when he trembles a bit at her breath against his skin. 

“Are you sure about that?” She lets the question hang for a moment. She hears him swallow loudly, and then a very quiet, but still present uncertain whimper. 

She can’t help but feel a surge of excitement, the heady rush of power over him in that moment. The fact that she could imprison him, interrogate him, cause him pain, and yet he could still have such a reaction to her was exhilarating. She couldn’t help but imagine him, her own little pet Jedi, obedient and willing to do anything she asked, eyes only for her.

A split moment decision was made. 

There’s a yelp of surprise from him when she presses her mouth against the crook of his shoulder, followed very shortly by her teeth. One knee is pressed firmly against his when he twitches, and he seems to take the hint that struggling at this point would not be in his best interests. She hums in approval when he seems to instinctively crane his neck to one side, more skin bared for her to work at. 

“Is this standard Imperial protocol?” He gasps out while she’s busy leaving more dark marks trailing up his skin. He’s doing his best to sound neutral, unaffected, but he’s melted against her and she can already feel that he’s not exactly unaffected by their current situation. 

“Are you intending to lay a complaint?” She teases, before nipping at the lobe of his ear, delighted by the little moan he immediately tries to stifle. She pulled back, resting her forehead against his to give him a knowing grin. “I can always leave…”

There’s a look of panic on his face that stokes the warm feeling in her stomach. When she leans in again to press her lips again this time, it’s more lightly than she’d prefer, but she wants to see his response. Resistance is usually fun from this one, but not in this scenario. She wants his compliance. She wants him to want her back, to give in and melt into her hands. If it meant walking away now, it would be a shame, but at least she’d be one step closer to her recently realized goal. 

There’s a momentary pause and she can feel his internal conflict raging. There’s nothing but victory on her mind however when she feels his resistance crumble as he leans back in, mouth desperate and searching. In response, she bites down possessively on his bottom lip, savoring both the tint of iron and little moan into her mouth she gets in response. 

He’s the first one to pull away, as much as she’ll let him, gasping for air. She rolls her hips experimentally against his, watching his eyes go half-lidded and another beautiful whine form on his lips. She quite quickly decides she’d like to see more of that, and the heat between her legs can only agree. 

“Keep your hands where they are,” she murmurs, an edge of warning to her tone as she slowly unwraps her fingers from around his wrist. For a moment, she foolishly thinks he’ll obey, but when she steps back his moment of resolve breaks and he reaches for her. 

A quick grab and she’s got her fingers wrapped in the back of his hair, giving him a disapproving look. “Why is it so impossible for you to behave?” She growls. He wisely chooses not to answer, instead staying very still in her grip. She decides right then that there’s not time better than now for him to begin to learn his place. 

“If you’re going to be a brat, you can put that smart mouth of yours to good use for once,” she informs him, a firm tug on his hair to bring him down onto shaky knees. He’s watching her with anticipatory eyes as she struggles out of her uniform, cursing the practicality of it. It’s a relief when it’s gone, and he’s straining forward a bit in her grip, any fear now replaced with a curiosity and hunger she can’t help but silently commend. 

Her grip on his hair tightens instinctively when he experimentally runs his tongue across her wet flesh, and she leans forward to brace herself against the wall with her other arm. Obviously feeling more confident, he picks up a shallow rhythm, guided by the occasional tug on his head and the light roll of her hips against his mouth. 

Biting down on her lip, she refused to give him the satisfaction of a single noise, doing her best to breath evenly through her nose. The slight tremble in her legs gives her away as she feels her stomach muscles tighten as his enthusiasm drove her closer to the edge, and in response she felt his fingers dig into her thighs. When she finally came, it was with a loud gasp that finally slipped between clenched teeth and a moment of brief blissfulness that relaxed her completely against him. 

When she opens her eyes again, he’s watching her cautiously with an anxious lick of his lips. “Good boy,” she sighs out, releasing her hold on him to run her hands through his hair. He practically preens under her praise, leaning into the touch. 

With another deep breath, she straightened slightly, before beginning to peel her gloves off. “What are you doing- “She cut him off with a hush, dropping them on the ground, before carefully dropping to her knees in front of him. The contact of her hand against his jaw as she tilted his head up to observe him prompted a slight gasp, a surge of her emotions rushing through his skin as she projected them out to him. 

She made a slight humming sound, enjoying the way he stared back with dilated pupils and craned into her touch. He had apparently learned not to move without her word she noted wryly, as he kept his hands planted firmly on the floor as he leaned in with a touch of desperation. 

“You’re lovely like this,” she informed him, brushing one thumb against his slightly parted lips. “If you continue to be good, I think I’ll keep you.” He flinched a little a that, but relaxed when she tapped his jaw in warning. He was such a fast learner. 

“I’m going to reward you for being a good boy, but as soon as you stop co-operating, we’re done here,” she warned him lightly, trailing her hand down the front of his chest to his waistline. He nodded quickly, his breath quickening once more. 

It didn’t take her long to have one hand tracing his hip bone lightly. “Are you going to continue to behave?” She asked casually, ignoring the slight tremble through his body. When she saw his face set in a familiar stubborn manner, she sighed theatrically, moving to pull her hand away. A slight widening of his eyes and he was stumbling over words immediately forced out. “Yes!” 

“Good boy,” she repeated, before slowly wrapping her hands around his length and giving an experiment stroke. He gasped and rutted into her grip, but she allowed it, giving him a knowing smile. “Are you going to try any more pathetic escape attempts?”

He shook his head up and down wildly, teeth digging into his lip. When prompted to use his words, he gave her a pained expression before managing to gasp out a little no.  
She lets himself work him up to a peak (which admittedly doesn’t take long – ah the joys of the inexperienced. Thank you, Jedi dogma). It’s only when he’s gasping and straining and slick in her grip that she leans in till she’s nearly touching his face and whispers, “Who do you belong to?”

There’s a look of pure stubbornness wrestling with desperation in his eyes when they raise to meet her. She only has to pause for a slight moment before any last remaining resolve crumbles down, and he buries his head in her shoulder with a cry and a chant of “yours”. 

She barely notices when he spills into her hand, too busy with the vicious pleasure uncoiling in her chest. Her free hand absentmindedly traces the marks left across his shoulders and necks as he gathers his breath in the crook of her neck. 

Oh he wasn’t hers yet, but he most definitely would be.

**Author's Note:**

> there...might be a part two.


End file.
